I Walked Away
by Writer is Ninja
Summary: No one really knows what to do after the war. Well, sometimes all the answers lie in the questions themselves. Seventh YearPost-War fic. ? het. Ootp spoilers.
1. Fear

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Harry Potter, Harry Potter's Universe, and all things relating in any way to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and various publishing companies that I'm far too lazy to mention. _I am making no money_, unfortunately. This goes for every chapter in the fic. Anything you do not recognise belongs to me unless I tell you otherwise. This is fan fiction, meaning that _I am a fan and do not own the materials that I am working with_ (though I suppose you could be a fan of yourself). Also, _I do not support any illegal activities_ that may or may not be mentioned therein.  
  
A/N: You don't find out who anyone is for sure until the next chapter, so don't ask. I can tell you that this is an odd pairing; or, at least, it's one I've never seen before. I'm sure there are plenty of fics with this pairing, though. It might be a bit easy to guess, though, unfortunately, who the couple is.  
  
Summary: Sometimes the answers lie in the questions themselves. Post-War fic. Ootp spoilers. ?/? Het.  
  
I Walked Away – Chapter 1, Fear  
  
I saw you lying there, bleeding. You weren't dieing, I knew, but it was hard to leave you nonetheless. If there was any possibility at all that you might not have made it out of the battle, I would have staked my life to save you. But there was not a shadow of a doubt in my mind that you were in safe hands, in capable hands, and I was correct in my judgments. I tossed Potter my fastest and best working healing balm, knowing and not really caring that I should probably save it, and I fought – beside Longbottom, no less! – against the Death Eaters. And that day I became one of the lucky ones to live to have seen the end of Voldemort, the one who had lorded over my life for so long, by way of Harry Potter. And somehow, now that he had fulfilled his prophecy, I could not hate the man. He had freed me and saved you, and despite the fact the I was supposed to be a heartless bastard I could feel no malice left for the young man. That's all he was; Harry Potter was a tired young man. He understood immediately that I was falling in love with you, even before I did, and pushed me to do what I never would have done of my own accord.  
  
I visited you in the Hospital Wing afterwards. I took your hand, squeezed gently, and then pulled back. You were looking at me with an expression of curiosity, then, that I felt the need to satisfy. I brushed my lips lightly over yours, not believing myself, and did something – for the first time in my entire life – out of fear, though I'm not sure exactly what I was afraid of.  
  
I walked away.  
  
I kissed you...  
  
And I walked away.

This is a small chapter, I know, perhaps the shortest I've ever written, but there'll be another chapter soon. If you can guess the pairing correctly, I'll...give you a cookie! Yeah! 


	2. I've Always Known

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Harry Potter, Harry Potter's Universe, and all things relating in any way to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and various publishing companies that I'm far too lazy to mention. I am making no money, unfortunately. This goes for every chapter. Anything you do not recognise belongs to me unless I tell you otherwise. This is fan fiction, meaning that I am a fan and do not own the materials that I am working with (though I suppose you could be a fan of yourself). Also, I do not support any illegal activities mentioned therein.  
  
A/N: I'll tell you who the one that gave the kiss was. How about that?  
  
Summary: Sometimes the answers lie in the questions themselves. Post-War fic. Ootp spoilers. ?/? Het.  
  
I Walked Away – Chapter 2, I've Always Known  
  
I've always known he loved her. That's why, when she had a crush on me, even though I'd liked her since I met her, I never showed I liked her back. I never even showed that I saw her that way. I couldn't. I could see it, long before even he could, that he was in love with her. I may never have liked the man, we may never have gotten along, and we may never be friends, but I couldn't take her away from him. Even though I love her, because I love her, I'm willing to let her go. If it will make her happy...  
  
I hope you're happy, Severus Snape. You have everything I've ever wanted right within your grasp. Just reach out a hand and you have it all. You may have been set free with the Dark Lord's demise, but I'll never be free. I'll never be free of the danger, of the fame, of the expectations. No one expects anything from you, Severus Snape, and I envy you that. You don't have to live up to some stupid name. You don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. If you make a mistake, it won't be plastered all over the papers. She loves you, too, Snape, just as much as you love her. I can see it in her eyes. All you have to do is be yourself, Snape, and she'll love you. She already loves you. I envy you that. I envy your freedom, and I envy that you can say something cruel and not have it come to bite you in the arse later on. I'm jealous. I'll admit it. I hate it that she loves you, and that you love her, and that I can never have her. I hate it that I can't be anything other than a friend to that woman. I hate it, but I don't blame you. I blame myself. I should have told her while I had the chance. You treat her right, Snape. You treat her right.  
  
If you hurt that woman, Severus Snape, I swear to God that I will break every single bone in your body one by one, cut out your heart with a spoon, resurrect you, and repeat the process until you get just how much of an idiot you are. Because I love her. I love her more than words can say. I would bring you back to life because it would kill her if you died; maybe not right away, but eventually it would kill her. I'm warning you now, Snape, let her go and she just might not be there for the taking. Because I love her. I love her just as much as you do. You can't see how much I love her, I hide it well, but I do.  
  
I love that woman, Severus Snape, and I know you love her too. I know she loves you, and I know you're better for her than I could ever be. I may not like you, but I love her. I could never hurt her. So you make her happy, Severus Snape; you make her happy, or I'll haunt you until you die. She loves you, and I know you love her too. I know you love each other just like I know I'll never send this letter.  
  
I've always known that the hero, no matter how many battles they win, loses in the end.  
  
Sincerely,  
H.J. Potter 


	3. Pretending

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Harry Potter, Harry Potter's Universe, and all things relating in any way to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and various publishing companies that I'm far too lazy to mention. _I am making no money_, unfortunately. This goes for every chapter. Anything you don't recognise belongs to me unless I tell you otherwise. This is _fan fiction_, meaning that _I am a fan and do not own the materials that I am working with_ (though I suppose you could be a fan of yourself). Also, _I do not support any illegal activities_ that may or may not be mentioned therein.  
  
A/N: Hermione's P.O.V.  
  
Summary: Sometimes all the answers lie in the questions themselves. Post-War fic. Ootp spoilers. ?/? het.  
  
I Walked Away – Chapter 3, Pretending  
  
Time goes on, and sometimes I wonder what happened to him. I wonder what happened to the Harry that I used to know, that wonderful boy with a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. Or was that all fake? I can't tell the real you from the fake you anymore, Harry, and that scares me. Aren't I supposed to be one of your best friends? I should know whether you're pretending to be someone else or not. I don't. Who is this person inhabiting your body? I can't tell if you've changed or if you're just pretending anymore. Or were you pretending before? Is this the real you I'm seeing now? The fake smiles and old eyes. Is that you, Harry? I don't know. I just don't know anymore.  
  
It's like I'm breathing underwater. There's air down here, just not enough to sustain the human body for a long amount of time. It's like I blinked, and you were some person that I never knew. What happened to us? What happened to the Golden Trio? It all seems so surreal now. Was it all a dream, before? Or is this the dream? Did I ever wake up at all? Will I wake up an eleven-year-old, back in my parent's house, and find out that nothing I ever thought of here was ever real? Will I wake up at my parent's house and get my Hogwarts letter? Is this all my imagination? How do you know what is real and what is fake? Do you ever know? Do you just hope that you're awake, and do what you think is best? Or do you go through life thinking you're asleep, and that all the happiness you ever had could be ripped away at any second? How do you know, Harry?  
  
How do you always know, Harry? How do you always know the answers to the important questions, and when I need them? How do you always know when Ron's been an arse, and I need some cheering up? How do you always know when I'm depressed? I want to know how you know. I know all sorts of unimportant things from my books, but you seem to know all the answers to the important questions. How do you do it?  
  
How do you always know who's going to be happy together? Why can't you make predictions like that for yourself? Why is it that I get to be happy, Harry, and you don't? Why? Why is it that Ron and I can be happy together, but you can't be happy with anyone? Why can't they see you for who you are? Why do you pretend to be someone I don't know? Why can't you fall in love, be happy, and have the family you've wanted for so long? Why is the world against you, Harry, and why am I the only one who sees that?  
  
"Hermione? Are you all right?" asked Harry, sitting down across from her.  
  
"I'm fine, Harry," she sighed.  
  
"No, you're not. What's on your mind?"  
  
"You," she replied.  
  
"Don't let Ron hear you say that. He'd have a fit. I'm sorry, Hermione, but I could _never_ love you like that!" he cried out in a deep, cheep romance novel sort of voice.  
  
They chuckled a bit, then grew silent.  
  
"Harry, why is the world so unfair to you?" Hermione asked quietly.  
  
"Come here," he said, opening up his arms. She snuggled up next to him in his chair, and he hugged her from behind. "Hermione, love, you should know by now the world isn't always fair. The world's crap has to be dumped _somewhere_. If I'm the only one willing to take it on, so be it. We can't all be happy all of the time. If we were, who is to say we'd know what happiness _was_? No one would have anything to compare it to, would they? So they wouldn't know any day from another. My bad days may be horrible days, but I don't have that many bad days. And if I have my bad days so that people like you and Ron and Ginny can be happy, then I'll take those bad days as they come. I'm going for a walk, and you are going to forget about the N.E.W.T.s for today and snog your fiancé senseless."  
  
As Harry was exiting the portrait hole, Hermione murmured a question to herself.  
  
"Harry, how do you always know the right thing to say?"  
  
"I don't! I take a chance, spin the barrel, and hope I don't get shot!"  
  
"Russian Roulette." He didn't _always_ pretend to be someone he wasn't.  
  
He walked away.  
  
From the dormitory staircases, someone watched.  
  



	4. Laughter

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Harry Potter, Harry Potter's Universe, and all things relating in any way to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and various publishing companies that I'm far too lazy to mention. I am making no money, unfortunately. This goes for every chapter. Anything you do not recognise belongs to me unless I tell you otherwise. This is fan fiction, meaning that I am a fan and do not own the materials that I am working with (though I suppose you could be a fan of yourself). Also, I do not support any illegal activities mentioned therein.  
  
A/N: Ron's P.O.V.  
  
Summary: Sometimes all the answers lie in the questions themselves. Post-War fic. Ootp spoilers. ?/? het.  
  
I Walked Away – Chapter 4, Laughter  
  
I don't have all the answers, but if I did I'd give them away. That would take all the fun out of life. Right now, I suspect we need all the fun we can get. I know why Harry gave the twins that money; and yes, I know that's where they got it. He's said it countless times during this war. "We could all use a laugh." He's said it after he set a Dungbomb off in the Common Room. He said it after he put those fireworks down Luna's shirt, and after he pushed Ginny into the lake. He said it after he used that love potion to make me fall in love with Mrs. Norris. I'm happy to be the bud of a joke if it will make just one person laugh. Because you see, even if the war is over, we could all use a laugh.  
  
I see why he does it now; _Harry_. I see why he tries to cheer everyone up, even if he's feeling lousy himself. Like what he did for Hermione back in the Common Room yesterday. Yeah, I saw it. I'd just gotten up, and I was going to go out to the Quidditch Pitch for a while. It was too beautiful a day not to spend outside. Hermione took Harry up on the idea that she should stop studying for the day and snog me senseless, in case you were wondering. Very enjoyable, that. But I'm going off topic. I know why Harry does it, tries to make others happy even if he's down in the dumps. He's _selfless_.  
  
You know, for once, I wish Harry would be _just_ a bit selfish. He deserves to be happy after all he's been through. Harry's changed, but... Oh, I don't know. He seems _older_. Yeah, I know, he grew up, but that's not what I mean. I'm horrible with words. I mean... he looks more tired, _weary_, like he's seen too much to deal with and all he wants to do is go to sleep. Y'know, the Wizarding World expects too much of him. All the girls fawn over him, and I envied that at one time, but they don't love him. He knows that, and I see how he hates every minute of it. The people, the public, love the symbol that they've made Harry out to be, and Harry tries to fit into that image the best he can. The image is so big, though, and he's so small in comparison. I like the _real _Harry, but not many people do. They think he should be some great superhero.  
  
That's not _Harry_, though, people. It's odd. He wants to be just Harry; not James Potter's son, not the kid with Lily's eyes. He wants to be just Harry, but he doesn't want to let people down, either. He doesn't _want_ to be the hero, but if he _isn't_ then people will be disappointed. I don't think that Harry realises that the people that love him – 'Mione and my family and Neville and Luna – love him for who he is. And, if he keeps trying to be someone he's not, Harry will never be happy. Harry is like a brother to me, and all I want is for him to be happy. You know, I think I'll ask him a really stupid question to see if I can wrench a smile from that weary man yet. Maybe it'll cheer him up a bit.  
  
Hey, we could all use a laugh.


End file.
